Teamwork Makes the Dream Work
"We're here, ma'am," Aaron Rice said from the driver's seat of the hulking SUV, his gray suit impeccable as befit his passenger. A second man, broad of shoulder, wearing a black suit, professional-grade sunglasses, and a radio earpiece, all part and parcel of being a bodyguard, exited from the passenger seat, his sharp gaze darting about the front of the restaurant and the street it faced.
A third man, salt and pepper hair marking him as older than both, looked through the heavily armored window from his seat behind Aaron. "I don't like this, ma'am," he said, tone deferential yet firm. "Too many angles to cover with just me and Kyle. If we had a full security team…" he began before he was cut off.
"Gustav?" his principal chided him from the last remaining seat.
"Yes ma'am?"
"Stop it. I'm a grown woman, and I can take care of myself."
"But Mrs. Schnee!"
"No buts," Willow Schnee said firmly, the plush leather under her rump creaking as she leaned forward. "You made the travel arrangements personally, didn't you?"
"Yes, but…"
"And since Port Arcadia is, by your own words, some backwater village, who is going to recognize me on sight? My daughter aside, of course."
"Well, you never know," Gustav tried to interject.
"And before I forget to mention it, it's Miss Schnee. It's been two years now, Gustav."
Two years.
Two years since the nightmare had ended. Two long years spent picking herself and her company up out of the mud. Two years after a simple, inconceivable stroke of fate that had put her dear, departed husband in the ground. Well, not in the customary fashion, at least. Such a terrible scandal that his body had somehow been sent to the recycler for fertilizer instead of the destitute miner originally slated for the mulcher. The mix-up had been pinned on the coroner, naturally, and he had retired in disgrace, already fully vested in his Atlesian civil service retirement plan. The fact that he was also quite well-invested elsewhere escaped notice for the most part, twenty thousand shares of Schnee Dust Company preferred stock that hadn't been publicly for sale for over fifty years forming the lion's share of a portfolio that at this very moment saw him sipping tropical cocktails with a pair of cute Faunus girls attending him on the beach in Kuo Kuana.
I hear the wheat yields in that sector are at least productive, Willow mused to herself. Jacques Gele had taken her there once during their courtship, the edge of Atlas a vantage point few indulged in.
"Still, I'm not willing to risk the head of the company so publicly. I've already lost one on my watch," Gustav Schwarz muttered darkly.
"Jacques' death was an accident. The police said so, Gustav," she said, placing a well-manicured hand on his forearm. She could only hope she'd reassured a man that was as much family to her as Klein Sieben. "If you're that worried, you can come inside with me and sit at the bar, I promise I'll stay in sight. It's just dinner with Weiss, not some den of vipers. It looks like a quaint little place," she remarked, looking up at the quaint sign swinging gently in the breeze. "Saleen's," she mumbled.
"Background investigations on the proprietor and staff are all clean, minor infractions at worst," Gustav recited from his tablet Scroll.
"Please don't ruin this?" Willow pleaded more than ordered, even if she knew the latter was an option.
Gustav broke away from his scan of the perimeter to look Willow in the eye. "Just please don't make my job any harder than it already is."
"I'll try not to, old friend," she said, patting his hand in as much of a display of affection as their relative positions allowed. "Shall we?"
"Oh, right," he muttered, exiting the vehicle and circling around to Willow's side, opening the door for his long-time employer, Willow taking a moment to straighten her dusky purple skirt from the long hours riding in both airships and now the company SUV. While she'd never been a slender woman, even in her youth, twelve years of alcoholism had given her what that one roughneck had termed "some junk in the trunk" during a mine inspection tour last year. She'd lost a little of that weight, more from breaking out of her largely sedentary, heavily-pickled lifestyle, but she could still smile a little to herself that she was able to turn heads at her age.
"All right, daughter dearest, let's see what's so important," she said to herself, allowing Kyle to get the door for her and walking past him into the cozy restaurant.
It was a homely place, bustling even for an early Wednesday evening, the decor clean, if a little dated, and borderline country kitsch. Not exactly a five star Atlesian fine dining experience, but more in line with the places she remembered frequenting with her father when she'd been a young girl and he had been a Huntsman par excellence who dabbled in the odd Dust mining claim.
"Looks like she hasn't arrived yet," Gustav spoke softly in her ear, the Schnee hair hard to miss even in a crowd.
"I guess I'll wait at the bar then," she replied quietly, drawing a cautiously raised eyebrow from Gustav as she took the handful of steps necessary to reach the polished oak that took up a goodly chunk of the back wall. "Cranberry spritzer," she told the bartender, finally deigning to shoot a smirk at Gustav as she hoisted her non-alcoholic drink in a toast to his health.
Mollified, Gustav moved through the crowd, taking up a position at the far end of the bar, his eyes casual, even if his mind was anything but.
"You didn't think to pack anything for warmer weather?" Keravnós Nikos said in a gravelly, grumbling bass, though in fairness, that had always been his default tone of voice. His wife Athena's fur-lined coat was perfect for nearly any occasion in Argus, but ill-suited to early autumn in Vale.
"It's one thing to know about it, and quite another to be here. I wish you'd said something, Pyrrha," she said gently, their daughter finishing up with her own final touches, full Huntress regalia was the standard of dress any time she was in the presence of her father.
"I did say something, Mom," she said curtly from her seat on the hotel room bed, her nerves an utter mess right now. She was worried, for the future, and for Jaune. Most young men lived in fear of their fathers-in-law, and Keravnós Nikos was a far scarier presence than most. Well over six feet tall, burly enough to rival an Ursa, and a grim face framed by a full, nut brown beard beneath a shaved pate, Keravnós Nikos was enough to give innocent bystanders the shakes, let alone someone who had potentially earned his ire by defiling his daughter.
By contrast, Jaune's father, Renard, had been a pleasant man, but even she could see how he treated Marguerite Arc's own boyfriend with a cool, distant contempt.
"Well, I could always grab a couple of the bedsheets and make a toga out of them," Athena chirped happily, her husband's flat-eyed stare more than enough answer for her. "It's on brand, as Pyrrha's agent would say," she added.
"I still can't believe you talked me into that," Keravnós muttered darkly, commercial endorsement something he had never aspired to, even during his competitive fighting days.
"Mom, you don't have to look perfect, the sundress I bought you will be fine, I promise. I just want you to finally meet Jaune in person."
"I asked you. You said this was important to you, and so we are here," her father said in his best reassuring tone, which is to say only mildly less cold and dark than normal.
"I want you on your best behavior, Keri," Athena chided him, a gentle tug on his beard added as a reminder.
"You can start by not calling me that in public," he muttered softly.
"Behave yourself and I won't have to," Athena countered, caressing his cheek and gently smooching the top of his head, getting a low growl that she knew was nothing, really. "Well, give me a second then," she said, plucking the shopping bag from the low dresser in their shared hotel room and heading to the bathroom to change.
Pyrrha grunted in frustration, the last small buckle of her left vambrace being fidgety again, especially with only one hand to try and fasten it. She felt rather than heard her father stand and move over to her, his massive hand closing over her forearm, a thumb holding the temperamental buckle in place for her to finish fastening it.
"Thank you, Dáskalos," she said quietly, her father's presence the one thing on Remnant that could intimidate her.
The formal term had always been theirs when he had trained her, and he was conflicted whether the fact that she still used it bothered him. Keravnós let her arm go, stepping back and allowing her to stand. His face betrayed no emotion as he looked over her appearance, finding everything perfectly in place, as he had trained her.
"Pyrrha," he began, pausing to modulate his voice to be as warm as he could manage. "You are as beautiful as the day I first held you in my hands. You have met every challenge I put before you, and I couldn't be prouder of the Huntress you have become."
Pyrrha's eyes misted over slightly, genuine praise from his lips something exceptionally rare in her childhood.
"Thank you, Father," she whispered, blinking away tears.
Massive bear paws settled on her shoulders, simple physical contact of such an intimate nature more than enough to convey the depth of his emotions. Before he could say another word, Pyrrha stepped into his personal space, her arms nearly encircling his burly chest and squeezing fiercely. Renard Arc had hardly been the stoic her own father was, even when first meeting her, and it had pained her to feel such an embrace from him.
To her surprise, however, Keravnós returned the hug, exercising a modicum of caution lest he crush his only child. She froze, unsure of what was happening, but was reassured when she felt his hand pat her back gently.
"You called me Dáskalos, but I haven't been your teacher for quite some time now. I pushed you, hard, because I knew what you would need to survive in the wilds. Even during the agoge, I was always your father," he added, hoping she would understand.
"I never doubted your love, Father," she whispered into his mostly bare chest. "I only ever wished you would show it," she added, her one regret in life neither lamentation nor accusation. Her mother had always been there to show her affection when she needed it, and now she had Jaune as well.
"I did, my little paionía. I hope you can understand that. I've always wanted the best for you, even if it includes this…boy," he concluded darkly.
"Father," Pyrrha said sternly.
"I just want to talk to him," he rumbled.
"Don't hurt him."
"I just want to talk to him," he repeated, plucking his large, runed battleaxe from where it leaned against the wall.
"No."
"I just want to talk to him," he said, dropping the weapon onto his back.
"Be nice," she warned him in her best stern voice.
"I just want to talk to him," he continued, cracking the knuckles of both hands.
"Keri?" Athena Nikos said firmly, green eyes looking over the top of her glasses to fix him in place.
Keravnós' gaze flitted from his wife, to his daughter, and back to his wife again. With the barest turn of his head, his eyes found a fascinating spot on the wallpaper.
"I just want to talk to him," he muttered quietly.
"So do I my love," Athena echoed. "He seemed nice over the Scroll, at least. And I trust my daughter," she added, giving Pyrrha a motherly smile.
"Are you saying I don't?" he asked, his eyes on his wife again.
"Relax, Keri. This is going to be a nice dinner together with our daughter's boyfriend, have some faith."
Keravnós growled softly, the one person on Remnant he was incapable of gainsaying giving him a smile of a slightly more enticing variety. The diaphanous dress her daughter had bought fell just below the knees, a pale green with a faded flower print cool and stylish enough for dinner.
"You look beautiful as always, Athena."
"Thank you, Keravnós . Now then, shall we? I can't imagine Jaune isn't eagerly waiting for us," she added, taking her husband's left arm, petting his massive bicep for a moment.
"I know he is," Pyrrha added, her smile genuine and warm, Athena and Keravnós both taken aback by seeing their daughter truly happy.
Jaune Arc rather enjoyed the cool, soothing wooden surface under his forehead, his hands laced behind his head as he continuously muttered 'Oh God' to no one in particular, shaggy blond hair keeping most of the light away from his face.
"You okay there, kid?" he heard from his right.
"Great," he said. "Juuuuust great," he said, clearly not meaning it.
"Doesn't sound like it. Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really," he replied, voice somehow both resonant against the thick wooden bar, and muffled.
"Do you need to talk about it?" was the slightly pointed response.
"Ugh, probably."
While Jaune wasn't exactly personally experienced with the whole bartender/patron dynamic, he knew of it from television, and so he resigned himself to having an impartial stranger pick apart his problem.
It could hardly get any worse, could it?
"Ummm, can I get a beer?" Jaune asked timidly, knowing that it was the price of such ad hoc therapy.
"ID, kid," the bartender grunted in a lower register.
Jaune slid his right hand down to his pants pocket, opening his Scroll to its default wallpaper and slapping onto the bartop.
"Huh, congratulations," the bartender said, referencing his brand spanking new, two-week-old professional Huntsman's license, the double axes of the Kingdom of Vale in any official capacity not something generally questioned by decent folk, and River Saleen was anything but indecent. He pulled a pint from the end of the tap tree, sliding it in front of Jaune with a rapidly soaked paper napkin underneath.
Jaune raised his head just enough for bleary blue eyes to blink twice at his new beverage. Reaching out, he took hold of the cold pint glass, pressing its soothing chill against his forehead for a moment before he straightened a little on his barstool. Staring into his beer, he watched as small trails of bubbles danced in the cloudy golden liquid.
"You ever have that feeling where you thought your life was going perfectly, only to have everything get turned upside down on you?" he asked, finally taking a good swig of what he recognized as a hefeweizen, Opa Carl's favorite something he'd snuck sips of as a small child.
God, I wish I had him to talk to, Jaune lamented silently. His own father would not only not be of help in his predicament, but would likely make things ten times worse.
"Life is what happens when you're making other plans, kid. What's the actual problem?" he heard, and for the first time in the conversation, he realized it wasn't the bartender who he was talking to.
No matter, he thought, shrugging mentally and taking another swig of his beer.
"I've got a girlfriend. No, I've got the Girlfriend, capital G and everything. The most stunningly beautiful, sweet, kind and generous woman on the face of Remnant," he said, voice nearly cracking as his line of sight lifted to the rows of bottles behind the bar.. "Don't tell my mom I said that," he muttered anxiously.
"My lips are sealed," his companion said with a smile in his voice. "She feels the same way, right?"
"Somehow, yeah. I wish she didn't though."
"Why's that?"
"Because I don't deserve it," Jaune said darkly, staring into his beer again.
"Oh, I've been there, lemme tell ya," his friend said with a chuckle. Friend? I guess Mom was right, Jaune mused. "But isn't that up to her?"
"I know it is, but there's a problem." Jaune paused for another swallow of his pale wheat beer. "I think I might be in love with someone else."
"And the feeling is mutual?" he asked.
"I mean, I think it is?" Jaune whinged, his frazzled brain needing a restart courtesy of him gently thumping his forehead into the bar. No dice. "I am such a piece of trash," he moaned.
"Well, love sometimes works like that. If you've really fallen out of love with your girlfriend…"
"I didn't," Jaune muttered darkly.
"Oh. Well, shit."
"Understatement of the century."
His ad hoc therapist sighed, pausing to think for a moment. "Believe it or not, I've dealt with something similar."
"Being in love with someone you're not supposed to be?"
"Well, more like being an idiot who didn't realize someone loved me who I didn't even dare to dream could. Didn't help that, at the time, I was in love with another girl who turned out to be toxic as hell."
Jaune raised his gaze again, lost in thought as he let his eyes get lost in the glints of light reflected in the bottles of booze on the wall.
"What did you do?" he asked.
"I didn't marry the right one, that's for damn sure," his friend grumbled regretfully, setting down an empty beer bottle beside Jaune's head.
"Another?" the bartender asked, plucking it from the bar and tossing it into the bin with the rest of the empties.
"Maybe later," he said before Jaune felt more than saw him shift one stool closer to him. "All I can tell you is that you need to let them know, both of them, as soon as you can, and once you've talked to them, make your choice."
"What if I can't?" Jaune croaked out, raising his glass.
"Well, polygamy's still legal in Vale last I heard," he said matter-of-factly.
River Saleen barely dodged Jaune's spit take spray of beer.
"Sorry," Jaune muttered.
"Still, the fact that you're agonizing about it? That just tells me you're one of the men who can actually make that kind of thing work."
"Heh. You've clearly never met me before. I could screw up making chocolate milk with a full recipe and video tutorial."
"Well, then just get it over with. Call them on your Scroll and hash things out so you can all move on, whatever direction that might be."
"I'm meeting them for dinner, actually." Jaune said without the slightest hint of enthusiasm.
"Well, that's certainly convenient."
"And their dads," he completed the thought, clearly not liking his chances. Jaune slammed back the last of his beer, tapping the bar to order a second. This was pretty good stuff, for his first time legally partaking.
"First time?" he asked, getting a morose nod in reply. "Oof. I hear ya. If things get too intense, just signal me and I'll try and get you out of there before you take too much damage. Us Huntsmen have to stick together, you know," he added, Jaune's gaze flitting to his right for the first time in the conversation, spying a well-toned arm resting on the bar, tan and tattooed in equal measure.
"You're a Huntsman, huh?" Jaune asked, still getting used to the fact that the capital H now applied to him, too.
"Once upon a time, yeah," he said, his tone conveying nostalgia with hints of sadness perfectly. "But anyway, who's got this?" he said, gently punching Jaune's shoulder.
"I…do?" Jaune said, his brain not quite registering the pep talk for what it was.
"Aww, you can do better than that, who's got this?" he demanded with more urgency.
"I do," Jaune replied, his voice firming a bit.
"Who's got this?"
"I do!" he said with a nod of his head this time.
"Okay. You're going to finish your beer, and you're going to go act like a man instead of just a boy. Tell these wonderful women how amazing they both are, and how happy they make you, and then let the chips fall where they may. If nothing else, it'll be a helluva story to tell your kids one day."
Jaune gave his first truly mirthful laugh of the conversation.
"Can't just have a normal life, can I?"
"Normal's overrated."
"I guess. Screw it," Jaune said, standing straight up before tilting back his second beer, great gulps taken as he downed it in seconds, praying to whatever god would listen that 'liquid courage' wasn't the joke everyone made it out to be. With a mighty belch, muffled by his hand (his mother hadn't raised a barbarian, for crying out loud), he slammed the pint glass down on the bar, pulled a ten lien card from his wallet to settle his tab, and turned to offer thanks and hearty handshake to his newfound life coach.
Taking in his full appearance for the first time, Jaune couldn't help but be reminded, with the man in front of him once again, that they could easily be distantly related. The combination of blond hair and blue eyes wasn't the most common thing in Vale, and even with his own third-year growth spurt, Jaune was still barely taller than the man.
"Oh, hey, Jaune!" Taiyang Xiao Long said, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, taking the proffered hand..
Jaune froze, his already nervous stomach roiling ominously, the color draining from his face as pinpricks of sweat started to show themselves.
"You okay?" he asked, watching Jaune's face turn green of all colors, a sinking feeling hitting Tai. "Ohhhhh, okay, bathrooms are in the back right corner, go!" he ordered him firmly, spinning Jaune about and pointing him in the right direction before shoving him along. He watched the boy scramble to get to the bathrooms, most of the patrons giving the obviously ill young man a wide berth.
"The hell did you give him, River?" he asked the bartender.
"Hey, the kid's a damn Huntsman, says so on the license," he defended himself.
Tai shook his head, turning back to face the bar before taking his seat.
"What does being a Huntsman have to do with it?" Tai heard, his gaze shifting further down the bar to find a decidedly pleasant looking matron in her late forties nursing a glass of something pink and bubbly, her silky white hair belying her apparent age. A smart business dress and blouse combination in shades of muted purples and whites flattered her figure well, a plush backside gently squished out as she sat on her barstool. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear some of that."
"Well, an awakened Aura can handle a lot more alcohol than normal folks. Heightened metabolism and all that jazz," he clarified, giving her a smile.
Her face fell, a darkness seeming to pass over her. "I'm well aware of that, sadly," she said softly, taking a sip of her drink.
"Didn't mean to make light of it. Your parents have…issues?" Tai asked diplomatically.
"No, not them." She paused. "You actually remind me of my father, when he was younger. He was usually better dressed, though," she teased, a slight smile on her lips as a fingertip fiddled with the large red brooch at her throat.
"Well, I just got out of work. I teach hand to hand at the combat school across town. If I'd known there'd be pretty ladies here tonight, I might have dressed the part," he said, recovering just as quickly as she had.
"I'll have to speak to my public relations people about that," she replied, a disappointed frown ghosting over her lips for a moment before she let it go, replaced by a mischievous twinkle in her pale blue eyes.
Tai had to give it to her, for a moment he'd actually thought she had staff.
"Good help is so hard to find," he said, trying and failing to affect a snobbish air of his own. "Sooo, you're not from around here, are you?"
"Is it that obvious?" she replied, knowing full well it was. Willow was overdressed for the restaurant, but perfectly fine for the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company.
"I've lived on Patch my whole life, pretty sure I'd remember you," Taiyang rattled off easily, doubling down on the charm offensive.
"Atlas, born and raised. That was good advice you gave your son," she added, getting back to why she'd talked to him in the first place.
"Huh? Oh, Jaune? He's not actually my son. Might as well be, though, as much as my daughter talks about him."
"Oh, really? Well, it's nice to see a man trying to build up the generation to follow, rather than bend them to his will. I only wish my own son had picked up less of his father's lessons and more of yours," she said, the darkness creeping into her voice again.
"Husband?" Taiyang said, arching a brow as he pumped the brakes on his train of thought. "So that's the guy at the end of the bar who's been giving me the stink eye since I started talking to you?"
Willow turned to her right for a moment, blinking once as she realized what Tai was talking about, shooting a scowl at her bodyguard.
"Okay, just so we're clear, I'm not about to keep hitting on a married woman," Tai rambled on.
"Is that what you were doing?" she replied, turning to face Tai again.
"I didn't mean…"
"Gustav is a dear, but he's most certainly not my husband," Willow said with a smile.
"He's not?" Tai asked, confused but hopeful. This woman was definitely pushing his buttons, despite, or perhaps because, she wasn't the Huntress type he usually associated with.
"Just an old family friend who didn't want me going somewhere strange without proper escort," she said with an air of ennui.
"Hey now, Port Arcadia is hardly the gutters of Mistral," Tai replied, taking pride in his little corner of Remnant. "But…I suppose it's good to have people who care," he amended.
"Indeed. Anyways, you may continue."
"Huh?"
"Hitting on me. I'm rather enjoying the attention," Willow added with a playfully haughty air.
"But…your husband?" he asked, even more confused now.
"Is currently doing the first and only beneficial thing he ever did in his entire, miserable life; fertilizing fifteen hectares of grain fields near the western edge of Atlas," she clarified angrily.
"I…oh," Tai said, divining her meaning after a second. "Well, he did give you a son, right?" he prodded her, trying to shift the conversation away from yet another uncomfortable topic.
"And two daughters. I'm meeting one of them for dinner, actually. Some big announcement she wants to make, I think. She wouldn't tell me that, of course, but she's always been terrible at keeping secrets from me."
"She might surprise you. My own girls do from time to time."
"Perhaps she just might," Willow smiled softly at that thought. One of her biggest stumbling blocks on her path to sobriety was her guilt over her lack of parenting for the better part of a decade. Guilt that led to more drinking, which took her further from her children, which led to more guilt, which… Willow stopped herself before her thoughts spiraled out of control, three deep breaths one of many techniques her therapist had given her early to maintain control. Focus on the here and now, not on what's already done. You can't go back and undo the mistakes, you can only repair the damage and become stronger from it, she reminded herself.
"Buy you another drink?" he asked, seeing that her tumbler was nearly empty.
"I was just about to ask you the same, actually," Willow riposted, swirling the dregs of her spritzer before tossing it back, handing the glass to the bartender.
"Why thank you, Miss…" he replied with an easy smile.
"Willow," she said simply, giving the bartender two fingers to indicate their order.
"Taiyang, my friends call me Tai," he said, leaning his elbow on the bar and affecting his best casual hotness look. He'd never been quite the ladies' man that Qrow Branwen was, but he wasn't one to lean heavily into the bad boy image that drew women of questionable taste, morals and sanity, either.
"Well, Tai, what brings you here tonight? You already said it wasn't me, much to my boundless disappointment," Willow added coyly. On the outside, her face and manner both portrayed a facade of confidence, relying on her long years of practice pretending to be things she wasn't; fine, happy, sober, sane.
On the inside, her heartbeat was roaring in her ears as her brain, for some reason, continued to play sexual tension chicken with a man she'd barely met.
"Actually the same as you, meeting the girls for dinner. They wanted to talk to me about something, probably post-graduation plans."
"Hmmm, I think I might be having the same conversation now that you mention it. I hadn't thought of that," Willow added.
"Two heads are always better than one."
"So now that we've figured that out, what do we do with the rest of our wait?"
Tai checked the clock above the bar and gave a disappointed frown.
"Well, the girls said they'd be here in the next few minutes, but the transit connection from Vale can be a little irregular at times."
"Pity, I was beginning to enjoy this conversation."
"Only just beginning? I'm losing my touch," Tai fired back playfully, his own brain trying to leap down his throat and throttle his larynx for saying something provocative like that. Maybe Yang was right about him needing to go out and meet people again, in spite of the baggage he inevitably brought to any relationship. It didn't hurt that Willow was charming in her own right, and a curvy silver fox to boot.
Before Willow could answer, her Scroll chimed, her eyes flitting wide as she saw the contact information pop up. She sighed resignedly, turning her attention back to Taiyang. "I'm sorry, I have to take this, it'll only take a moment," she said before tapping the answer button and lifting the device to her ear. "Yes, dear. No, I'm already at the restaurant."
Tai took a sip of his drink to afford Willow the modicum of privacy one would expect at a bar, letting his Huntsman senses pick up the various bits of seemingly insignificant information around him, like Jaune's hand as it tried to stealthily retrieve his Scroll, Tai's hand clamping down on his wrist before he got to it.
"Ohhhh, no you don't. I recognize that look. You're a young man, not a little boy, right?"
"Yes, sir," Jaune said meekly, his head lowered.
"Good. Now that we've got that straight, let me look at you," Tai said, gently lifting Jaune's chin with two fingers to look him directly in the eyes. "Hmm, got a little vomit there on your collar. Go back in there, clean that up, and run a comb through that mop you call a hairdo. Oh, and here," he added, plucking half a roll of breath mints from his pocket. "Your breath smells like crap. Gargle with water, then all of them, chew and swish, then swallow. If, by some miracle, you end up successfully navigating this today, you don't want any kisses to be ruined by bad breath. Plus, I don't think you want anyone reinforcing your nickname either."
"Yes, sir," Jaune agreed. "Can I have my hand back?"
"Oh, sorry," Tai said, releasing him.
"Be right back I…suppose…" he said, trailing off as his gaze slid past Taiyang and his eyes went wide in fear.
"What?" Tai asked, turning to follow his gaze. "You act like you've never seen a beautiful woman before, which is a flat out lie. I know your classmates."
"I'm just…gonna…go get cleaned up," Jaune said haltingly.
"You do that, and remember, I'm here for you, all right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Now get," Tai said firmly.
He took another sip of his drink, and it finally dawned on him that the tart and bubbly concoction didn't have any teeth to it, Willow's earlier reply to his question coming into sharp focus. Well, I guess I'm not the only one with baggage here, he mused quietly, his own foray into depression and despair following Summer's disappearance having leaned heavily on alcohol.
As much as he loved the man, Qrow Branwen was a terrible therapist.
"All right, dearest. I'll see you shortly," Willow said through a motherly smile, tapping the call closed.
"Your daughter?"
"Yes. She seems to think I'm incapable of punctuality. I will concede that I've not instilled much confidence in her in that regard," Willow said, chagrined. "So, if I may pry, what is the young man's problem?"
"Jaune? Oh, just the most terrifying day of any man's life. Meeting his girlfriends' parents."
"Oh, the horror," she said mockingly, fanning herself dramatically with her hand. "I might get the vapors just thinking about it."
"It's different for men, Wil," he said, the familiar shortening of her name slipping off his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Still," she replied, sipping her drink through a smile before she flinched, cocking her head slightly to the left.
"Something wrong?" Tai asked.
"Something just occurred to me. Do you know his girlfriend?"
"I…think he's dating his academy partner? Not a hundred percent on that one," he conceded. "And if he is, he's damned lucky."
"I think you're wrong."
"How so?"
"Well, just call it a woman's intuition, but I'm pretty sure the reason he's terrified of his girlfriend's father is that said father is already ordering him around like an Atlesian drill sergeant."
Tai paused a moment to think before he himself flinched back at what Willow was implying.
"Nahhh, no way. My oldest is with her partner of four years, quite happily, I might add. And Ruby? I don't think she's even into boys. Or girls, for that matter."
"She has to grow up some time."
"Well, yeah, but she's nineteen, and that's just never been a thing with her."
"Still," Willow said, her lips bearing a knowing, playful smirk.
Taiyang Xiao Long felt a little warm, flushed even, looking back at her, a sharp puff of breath escaping his nose as inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt.
"I'll bet you dinner you're wrong," he said with a mischievous smile.
"But I'm not staying in town past tomorrow morning," Willow replied, intrigued by the thinly veiled offer. Being away from the thin, cold air of Atlas had her positively giddy, it seemed.
"Then I guess it'll have to be tonight," Tai shot back, setting the hook. "I wouldn't want to welch on a bet."
Willow hummed thoughtfully, plucking a discarded menu from the bar next to her and perusing it briefly.
"The crawfish etouffe sounds delightful," she said, flipping the page. "And proper tarte tatin?" she asked dubiously, pale blue eyes flicking about the establishment to try and verify the culinary bonafides of Saleen's by sight alone.
"It's actually from the local Gallic bakery, but delicious."
"I'll have to include my daughter."
"So long as you don't mind my own tagging along."
"Deal," Willow said with a predatory gleam in her eye. "Loser pays the table," she said firmly, getting an affirmative nod from Taiyang. This was like a business deal, but actually fun. Another alert chime from her Scroll drew Willow's gaze for a moment, her eyes betraying little as she pivoted back to Tai. "I'm going to go wait for my daughter up front; find us a table?"
"You've got it," he said with an eager grin. "Table for five, right?"
"Six."
"Gustav joining us?" he asked, a distasteful scowl threatening to creep over his face.
"Oh, definitely not. I just think it's rude to exclude your future son-in-law," she retorted with a saucy smirk. "Be right back," she said, sliding off her barstool and walking towards the front door, hips sashaying with each click of her low heels on the wooden floor.
Tai hadn't even realized he was staring at her backside until he heard a low whistle from his left, a very brief glance confirming it was River Saleen, doing exactly the same thing.
"I know, right?" Taiyang muttered. He sighed heavily when Willow finally broke line of sight at the front door, and he turned to River fully. "I'm gonna need a table for six, apparently."
"It's gonna be a bit of a wait, I'm afraid. Thirty minutes, maybe less."
"The hell are you talking about? There's two empty tables right there!" Tai barked in frustration.
"Yeah, and I need to get those both cleared and moved together plus one more for a party of fourteen I've got coming in in…ten minutes," he growled, checking the clock with a scowl. "Jade!" he barked across the dining room, his eldest daughter shooting him a scowl from the table she was taking orders from. River gestured at the two empty tables with a scowl of his own, Jade mimicking his gesture towards the table she was dealing with at the moment by way of surly explanation.
"Damn it. If you want to wait at the bar, I'll see about getting your starters in and served here. Excuse me," he added, flipping up the small gateway built into the bar top to go help Jade get things ready.
Taiyang watched the man work, glancing at the menu to see if anything had changed and realizing that Willow had named the two priciest items on the menu. He chuckled, wondering if that was a deliberate ploy or just her preferences, but finding he didn't much care. If dinner was on her dime, then he'd be gracious about his choices at least. Making her pay the entire bill was enough, especially when considering Huntsman appetites. And Ruby…
"Crap," he muttered.
Ruby Rose was famous for many things, though her ability to absolutely wreck a bakery wasn't exactly widely known. Sticking Willow with a bill the likes of which she'd likely never seen wasn't exactly on his agenda, nor was it gentlemanly either. The prospect of taking advantage of the beautiful widow soured quickly for many reasons, not the least of which was angering her to the point of never getting to see her again.
Huh, he mused quietly, a couple blinks taken as he processed this realization, before his line of sight was interrupted by a red blur streaking towards him.
"Daaaad!" Ruby squealed, leaping into his arms and hugging him as fiercely as her lithe arms could bear.
"Heyyy, kiddo. Where's Yang?"
"Parking her bike."
"Ah. Looks like we're gonna have to wait a little bit for dinner anyway," he said, ruffling her hair affectionately.
"No worries," she said, silver eyes sparkling over a bright, innocent smile.
Weiss Schnee took a deep breath to steel herself, her emotions threatening to run away from her if she let them. Despite her successes, graduating from Beacon Academy as salutatorian chief among them, the relationship with her mother had always been rocky. Things had been improving ever since her father's freak accident, Willow's sudden liberation igniting a transformation in her, but was it too late?
Weiss was here to find out, surely, wondering what reaction her own plans going forward would receive from her mother. Winter had told her that their mother truly was working through everything, and that there was much they hadn't been privy to, many things Willow had shielded her children from.
She tugged gently at the waist of her gray dress, straightening her appearance to its typical perfection after the air taxi from Vale had hit a spot of turbulence, not to mention Ruby's fierce hug as she'd gone into the restaurant ahead of her. So this is adulting she thought, sighing softly before pushing the door open.
That her mother was standing there, waiting for her, wasn't a shock, but there was a tiny, nagging doubt in her mind, born of years of neglect, that whispered darkly in her ear that the woman had been lying. That this voice had been silenced immediately was comforting, though the tumbler in her hand raised another red flag.
Seeing Weiss' line of sight, Willow's frail smile faltered momentarily and she raised the glass to just below her daughter's nose.
"Non-alcoholic," she said simply.
"I…I believe you, Mother," Weiss replied uneasily, recoiling a bit and looking away.
"No, you don't," Willow corrected her. "That trust has to be earned. I know and understand that, so please, let me do so," she pleaded gently.
It was the tone that swayed Weiss, and she looked her mother in the eyes, searching their depths for a moment before she leaned forward and sniffed the half-drunk cranberry spritzer. To their mutual relief, the concoction passed muster. Weiss exhaled a deep breath, simultaneously relieved and berating herself for mistrusting her mother.
"Mother, I…it's…" she stammered.
"Hard," Willow completed the thought. "I know I didn't make it easy growing up. I can only try and move forward, and be a better mother than I have been." Weiss opened her mouth, a doubtless biting reply forming, but she thought better of it and remained silent. "I know it's not a high bar to set for myself, but I am trying, Weiss," she added, getting a nod of acknowledgement.
"It's good to see you," Willow began, stepping forward to hug her daughter, firm but not overwrought, almost professional-feeling to Weiss but for the shuddering breath she felt wrack her mother's frame. This…
This was real.
And so, Weiss returned the hug, true affection once reserved only for her older sister, and then her sisters-in-arms at Beacon.
"Winter sends her regards, and regrets she couldn't make it. Taking leave so soon after her promotion wouldn't be a good example for the crew."
Weiss started, her eyes going wide in elation. "She got selected!"
"Yes, she did."
"Which command? The Invincible?" she asked optimistically, the flagship of the Atlesian Navy a plum posting with all sorts of potential for further advancement. James Ironwood wasn't getting any younger, after all.
"ANAS Indomitable, actually. Or as she calls it, the Incorrigible. She's happy, given the reputation of the crew as the castoffs of the rest of the navy. If she can whip them into shape, it'll look very good on her record."
"I fully expect they won't know what hit them," Weiss said with a smirk, duly and properly proud of her sister.
"Indeed. But enough about Winter. Why have I, willingly, mind you, rearranged my schedule for the next two weeks to be here?" she asked, not sounding upset, per se, but curious and concerned.
"It's something I have to tell you face to face, Mother. And…it'll have to wait until dinner, actually," she added, waving briefly at Yang Xiao Long as she walked past them into the dining room.
"Who was that?" Willow asked.
"One of my teammates. I'll introduce you in a moment," she said, already dreading the potentially mortifying consequences of introducing the boorish Yang to her mother.
"Also, about dinner," Willow began, unsure how to breach the topic.
"What is it?"
"Well, we're having guests."
"What?!"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. He's a very nice gentleman with daughters around your age, I think."
"You brought a date?!" Weiss whisper-hissed.
"No, I did not bring a date," Willow protested haughtily. "I found one when I got here," she admitted quietly, well aware of how absurd this all was.
"You just picked up some random guy in a bar? How is that better?!"
"Now listen here, young lady, I am a single, adult woman, and I can go on a date if I want to. Give your mother some credit. Besides, he's quite charming, and if things don't work out tonight, I won't ever have to deal with him again."
"But we need to talk about…" Weiss trailed off, not wanting to divulge her agenda yet.
"If it can wait until we're at the dinner table, it can wait until after dinner," Willow shot back sternly.
"I'll need to talk to…" she muttered softly, already trying to salvage this disaster. "Fine," she growled, turning to the hostess. "I have a reservation, Weiss Schnee," she told the young lady.
"Yes, ma'am, I believe they're setting up your table now. You can wait at the bar if you'd like, we'll call you."
"Perfect. I can't wait for you to meet Tai," Willow said with a smile.
"Tai? Wait…"
"Come on, dear," Willow said in as motherly a tone as she could muster, taking Weiss by the hand and leading her into the dining room.
"Hey, Dad," Yang said warmly, walking over to him with a saunter that oozed confidence and drew more than a few eyes from around the dining room, much to the consternation of their dates.
"Hey, Firecracker," Taiyang said with a smile, wrapping his arms around his daughter.
Yang returned her father's hug fiercely, never shy about showing affection towards him.
"It's so good to see you both. How's the apartment hunting going?" he asked, not bitter about the girls leaving the nest completely now that they were fully licensed Huntresses. Not one bit.
"It's going," Yang said nonchalantly.
"We're gonna have to wait for a table, so dinner's pushed back a bit," Tai said. "More time to catch up, for sure, but first I need you to help me lose a bet."
"Wait," Yang replied with a skeptically cocked eyebrow.
"What?" Ruby added, silver eyes darting about, trying to find a hidden camera or similar shenanigans.
"I was talking with a lovely woman at the bar while waiting for you, and I bet her that Jaune wasn't dating either of you," Tai blurted out. "God, that sounds really weird when you say it out loud," he mumbled.
"He's here already?" Ruby asked, her expression brightening at the mention of one of her best friends.
Yang cut a flat gaze to her sister, hoping that if she didn't correct her, their father wouldn't notice a particular word.
"But why do you want to lose?" Yang asked instead.
"Well, at first I wanted to win, but then I realized the kind of dessert tab Ruby can run up," he began, getting a hmmph of protest from the girl, "and I didn't want to saddle Willow with that big of a check. I also want her to be happy about winning."
"Oh…kay," Yang replied. "This is still kinda weird, but whatever," she added with a shrug.
"Who's Willow?" Ruby asked, the far more pertinent question in her eyes.
"The woman I just met at the bar, pay attention."
"We were kind of hoping to have you to ourselves," Yang added.
"Listen girls, Daddy's got a date for the first time in over a decade here, so can one of you at least pretend to love on Jaune until we're done with dinner?" he asked, voice growing desperate. "I'm pretty sure he'll play along if you give him a hint or two," he said, pointedly looking at Yang, the ever-eager prankster.
"Oh! Sure, not a problem," Ruby answered nonchalantly.
Taiyang blinked, his salvation coming from a far less expected source. "Thanks, Ruby, I...wait a minute, you agreed to that awfully quick," he added, his fatherly instincts screaming at him that something was amiss.
"Ruby, you idiot, you're not supposed to give it up that easy."
"Oh, you're one to talk," Ruby grumbled, rolling her eyes.
"Still."
"But why?" she asked.
"Because, dear sister, he doesn't know."
"Know what?" Tai asked, now thoroughly confused.
"Nothing," Yang chirped.
"Uhhhhhh-huh," their father said, folding his arms in his best disappointed dad pose.
"Well, duh, of course he doesn't know. You wanted to surprise him instead of talking about it like the reasonable adults we all are!" Ruby growled at her sister.
"Hey, Ruby, I think I saw strawberry chocolate silk pie in the pastry display when I walked in," Yang said with a smirk.
"Really?!" Ruby gasped, disappearing in a burst of rose petals only to reappear a moment later. "You lied to me," she said flatly.
"What are you two talking about?!" he demanded, his patience wearing perilously thin.
"Nothing," Yang repeated through a sweetly innocent smile.
"He's gonna find out eventually," Ruby cautioned her.
"I know, but we promised we were going to tell him together!"
"Tell me what? And you're both here!"
"Not you, Dad," Ruby corrected.
"Not just you, anyway. And not just us, either."
"I'm even more confused now. Will one of you tell me what's going on already?!"
"Okay, but you can't tell anyone else yet, okay?"
"Yang…"
"Promise?" Ruby pleaded.
Taiyang sighed. "All right, all right, I promise. As much as I can, anyway."
"I'm pregnant," Ruby stated succinctly.
"What?!"
"Ruby, you can't just say it like that. That's just… wrong."
"Yeah, give a guy a break, Ruby."
"We're pregnant," Yang corrected her.
"I need a drink. I need a team of drinks. Wait, what about you and Blake? I thought you two were happy together!"
"We want kids together, and we don't want to wait. We talked about the future, and neither one of us wants to be changing diapers when we're forty." Yang shrugged. "Pyrrha let us borrow her man for a few hours on the condition that she got the video."
"Turns out she's super freaky like that," Ruby whispered.
"And she's got issues keeping up with him," Yang added, her own hips sorely twitching at the memory.
"Who'da thunk it?" Ruby mused aloud.
"So yeah, I was filming, making sure he was treating her right, and it just…kinda got out of control from there," Yang explained, chagrined but not upset, this memory finally managing to get a soft blush out of her.
"And you?" he asked, immediately berating himself mentally for wanting to know.
"Me and Weiss came back to the dorm on schedule, just like we'd planned, expecting them to be done and cleaned up already. Never expected Weiss to get into it like she did, let alone join in…" she trailed off, sounding both shocked and a little upset.
"Whole...team…" Tai whispered, an unblinking stare across the dining room the only action he was capable of.
Ruby waved a hand in front of her father's eyes. "I think we broke him," she said, sounding worried.
"Wouldn't be the first time we broke a man together," she said with a cocky grin, holding her hand out for a fist bump her sister eagerly returned, both of them splaying their hands afterward and making soft explosion noises with their mouths.
"That was one hell of a weekend," Ruby admitted with an awestruck smile.
"He really is my son," Tai whispered.
"So yeah, Dad, I've got no problem lovin' on my man, just don't give him crap about the baby, okay?"
"What? Why?"
"Because Blake and Weiss aren't here yet. We're going to tell him together."
"I'm just so glad you both could come," Blake Belladonna said, her tone warm for just about anyone, let alone someone as taciturn as she normally was. She stood with her parents in the lobby of a small hotel, more of an old-timey inn to be fair, something that fit perfectly in the milieu of Port Arcadia.
"We've always been there, waiting for you, dear," Kali reminded her gently, not upset that it had taken their daughter nearly two years away from the White Fang to reconcile with them, but happy she'd done so at all.
"I don't know why you got it into your head that we would be upset, Blake. We raised you to make your own choices, and to accept that those choices had consequences, but we also taught you the importance of forgiveness," Ghira added, adjusting the long, open-fronted coat that was as much a badge of office as a personal fashion statement. "Your issue with us was born of difference of opinion, not because we didn't practice our beliefs," he added to reinforce his final point.
"Ghira," Kali gently cautioned him, reconciliation still a path and not a destination for them all.
"Sorry, I was just saying that we would always forgive you, all you had to do was ask," he clarified, skirting perilously close to a sore spot once again, getting a soft growl from his wife.
"It's okay, Mom, really. I get what he means," Blake reassured her, well aware she was the one of them on the thinnest ice. "I love you, both of you," she added.
"And we love you too, kitten," Kali replied, getting a grunt of frustration from her daughter.
"Can you please not call me that?" Blake muttered irritably, her ears flattening against her head.
"You'll always be our little kitten, Blake," Ghira reminded her in his best dad voice.
"You'll understand when you have children of your own," Kali added with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, I guess," she replied, her eyes cutting to the side, Kali's eyebrow flicking upward for a moment.
Her sullen pout was abruptly destroyed when Ghira Belladonna wrapped his massive arms around them both, squeezing the two most precious people in his life together in a bear hug.
Kali sighed into the hug, having long since fallen in love with the man and the safety his embrace conveyed, her eyes opening after several moments, then going wide at what she saw. Blake was actually, publicly, enjoying it too, her cheek rubbing softly back and forth against her father's chest. She took a deep breath, her smile growing until she stopped, a thought occurring to her. Kali's eyes narrowed at her daughter's display and she let her breath go, stepping out of her husband's arms, breaking the family up.
"A little hint of perfume? You really are trying to make a good impression, aren't you," he asked of his daughter before he saw Kali's cocked head looking at him with an unreadable expression. "You're right, Kali, we do need to get going. I can't wait to meet your girlfriend, Blake. She must be something very special," he added, a further snag in their relationship that he'd gotten over, or at least seemed to publicly support.
"I feel like we practically know her already, with what you've told us, dear," Kali said with a smile. "I'll be sure and take plenty of pictures," she added, patting the concealed pocket hidden in her kimono, her face quickly shifting to consternation. She quickly checked her other pocket, as well as her small handbag, sighing in frustration when she stopped. "Oh, dear, I can't believe I left my Scroll in our luggage."
"We can use mine," Ghira said, not wanting to be late.
"That's only for official government business," she reminded him. "Besides, you're all thumbs when it comes to the camera," she added, her husband's thick physique coming complete with equally thick fingers, complete with wickedly sharp claws. Ghira sighed, breath barely ruffling his beard.
"Do you remember where it is?" he asked, already dreading the answer.
"You're always the one to pack us up, dear. You know how disorganized I get," she added, a gently exasperated sigh leaving her frame as her shoulders slumped.
"I'll go check the luggage," Ghira said with the barest hint of a grumble. As much as he loved his wife, this had always been a pet peeve of his. "Back in a minute," he added, kissing his wife on the cheek before lumbering up the stairs.
Kali watched her husband's back as he retreated up the stairwell, counting silently to ten before she turned back to her daughter. "Just look at you," she said with a warm smile, placing her hands on Blake's jawbone, the heels of her hands resting against her neck. "So beautiful and all grown up," she cooed, a proud mother to be sure.
"Mooom," Blake moaned softly, protesting far less than Kali was accustomed to.
"I know your father isn't the most…progressively minded person, but I assure you, he loves you, and he'll love your husband, too."
"Mom, we don't…call it that. Besides, Yang and I haven't even discussed marriage."
Kali's expression darkened slightly, eyes narrowing as she took a good, hard look at her daughter. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk and she pulled Blake into another hug, which was returned after a moment's hesitation, Blake not entirely sure what was going on with her mother. Their respective statures meant that Kali's nose was nestled into the hollow of Blake's neck, just above her collarbone. Blake felt humid warmth bloom against her bare skin as her mother sighed again, her nose catching every single note in Blake's heavy perfume, as well as her underlying scent.
Kali's eyes went wide again, nostrils flaring as she took another deep breath, everything clicking into place. She stepped back, Blake's face apprehensive at her mother's odd behavior. Kali's lips curled into a knowing smirk once again, and she folded her arms to address her daughter.
"This is a dangerous game you're playing, Blake Marie," she said flatly, more warning than rebuke.
"I…what are you talking about?" she replied, her cat ears flicking erect, alert for danger.
"Fine, keep your secrets. All I can say is that we'd better be meeting the father tonight," Kali cautioned her.
"Mister Xiao Long is going to be there, or at least he's supposed to be. Yang said he was coming."
"No, dear, I'm talking about the father," she said in her best annoyed mom voice, pointedly directing her gaze at Blake's abdomen.
"I…what?" Blake stammered, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Please, Blake, give me some credit. Your father is the one who lost half his sense of smell when the Mistrali army got too happy with the riot control gas. You positively reek of motherhood, in spite of the perfume bath you took," she said with a wry smirk, a twinge of satisfaction felt as her suspicion was immediately confirmed by the color leaving Blake's face.
"Mom…it's…" Blake said hesitantly.
"Life is complicated, dear. Now fill me in on everything, quickly, we've got maybe five minutes before your father gives up looking for my Scroll," she added, plucking the device from another hidden pocket in her kimono and showing it to Blake.
"I…I don't know if I can tell you…everything," Blake muttered, her gaze cutting to the side as she blushed fiercely at the memory.
"That good, huh?" Kali said with a chuckle.
"Mom!" she hissed in return.
"All right, spare me the gory details, but everything else, spill it. I can't guarantee your father won't kill that boy if I go into dinner uninformed," she added when Blake showed the slightest hesitation.
That got Blake's attention.
And so, she began to talk.
AN: This will be getting one, maybe two follow-up chapters, being such a crack premise to begin with, I don't want the joke to wear out its welcome.
